11. Breakfast in the Garden
R ose stared at the small round table and the veritable feast spread upon it.
Hot, heavy panic filled her chest at the thought of eating in front of the Prince. She took a shaky step back. Away.
“What are you doing?” He grabbed her arm. “Sit and eat.”
“No, sir.” Rose sunk into another curtsy. “I cannot.”
“Of course you can. I am telling you to.” Taking her arm again, he pulled her to her feet and pushed her toward the chair. She resisted.
Because she couldn’t eat. She wouldn’t. It was too demeaning.
And what if he ate in front of her? She shuddered at the thought.
Oh, Gods, what if he wanted to eat from her? That was so much worse. Vampire bites were brutal and humiliating and often went hand-in-hand with sex.
Rose always, always fought such things.
And was always punished and usually sold afterward.
Just the thought of it had her eyes burning .
But then she was suddenly sitting in the chair Prince Adrian shoved her into. She scowled up at him.
“You are the most stubborn female I have ever met,” he said as he rounded the table, unbuttoning his suit jacket before he sat.
Rose lifted her chin. “I’m not sorry.”
Prince Adrian’s lip twitched as if he were about to smile. “Why do you resist? Even when I have your best interests in mind?”
“Clearly, you’ve never had your freedoms taken away,” she retorted. “Your Highness.”
His amused expression went blank. “Eat. I will not ask again.”
He hadn’t asked in the first place, but she didn’t point that out, staring at her filthy hands.
Larkin woke just then, yawning, and rubbed his head on her chin before jumping across the table to the Prince.
“Good morning, traitor,” Prince Adrian greeted, smiling slightly as the red mink climbed his arm to sit on his shoulder and rub his cheek. Staring out the windows, Larkin chittered in the Prince’s ear.
“Your Highness,” Rose said, watching her friend on their Prince’s shoulder. “Larkin would like to hunt. May I let him outside?”
A wave toward the garden was her response, which she took as permission. With his gaze all but burning her skin, Rose walked to the door and then outside. Larkin followed her as a red fox. Together, they went to the stone birdbath in the center of the garden. The water was frigid, but Rose used it to rinse her hands and face.
“I don’t know why he wants to eat with me, Larkin,” she whispered down to the fox, afraid Prince Adrian would overhear with his more sensitive ears. “Has he lost his mind?”
As Rose ran her wet fingers through her dirty tangle of curls, the fox made a series of chittering sounds, which Rose took to mean that their Prince had not been like himself lately. She then swept her hands over her dress, shaking some of the dust and dirt out. It made Larkin sneeze, and Rose giggled.
“I know you want to hunt, little fox.” She knelt to be on his level. “Stay safe and return swiftly.”
Larkin bumped his head on her arm, chittering more, and she got the impression that he was boasting about being a great stalker of prey.
Amused by her thoughts, she stroked the fox’s back. “Don’t eat too much. And no bringing me bones. It’s disgusting.”
Larkin made a sound like laughter as he darted to the wall. She stood as he agilely made his way over and disappeared into the dusk. When she turned back toward the breakfast room, Prince Adrian stood in the doorway, watching her.
Her smile dropped away as their eyes met briefly. Looking in the direction Larkin had gone, she contemplated following him. She could run to the outer wall of the palace and somehow make it through to the other side. Surely, there was a weakness in one of the guard stations. One lone slave should be able to sneak through.
“Don’t even think about it. I assure you; I am far swifter of foot.”
Rose was galled that he’d read her so easily. But she knew he was also right and returned to his side with her head held high. When he motioned to the table and the chair he’d pulled out, she sat, trying not to notice his smirk.
Was he laughing at her? The thought made her burn even though she’d never be embarrassed for wanting to be free. He would never understand.
And why should he? He had everything he could want a finger snap away. The entire kingdom groveled at his feet. He would never be at the mercy of unkind masters.
“Eat,” he repeated, impatience clear in his tone .
“I am not hungry.”
“Don’t be stupid. I can hear your stomach complaining. Fill it.”
Rose clenched her jaw, her fingers itching to throw the teapot at his self-righteous head. “No.”
“You are testing my patience. I have quite an evening planned for us—”
“By whose standard, Your Highness? Yours or mine?”
Prince Adrian blinked, and then his face darkened as he leaned over the table. “Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. If you continue testing me, I will punish you. I have gone out of my way for you over and over again, endured the censure of my family and the speculations of the entire capital. If you do not appreciate my actions, I will take them away.” He shoved the tray toward her. “Now fucking eat .”
Rose swallowed trepidation. And then she took a grape and shoved it in her mouth, still staring into his eyes with defiance. To her shock, he threw his head back and laughed. She stared at his mouth, at his sharp fangs.
“Gods above, you are infuriating. ” Still smiling, he sipped from the silver goblet in front of him. “The heavens only know why I like that.”
Rose looked down, grabbing more grapes. The sweet juiciness was like nothing she’d ever had. Almost moaning at the flavor, she shoved more into her mouth before reaching for the raspberries. She closed her eyes on the tart sweetness, juice dripping down her chin. Uncaring, she ate, afraid it would be taken away—more raspberries, a slice of apple, three salty crackers, and a wedge of sharp cheese.
At a slight rustle across from her, she froze. The Prince’s ruby irises stared, his pupils dilated, nostrils flared. Ashamed, she swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Folding her hands in her lap, she averted her burning face.
“Don’t stop,” the Prince said surprisingly gently. “I told them to feed you more, but I fear I have been disobeyed. Again. ”
Rose chanced a glance up when he nudged the tray. More sedately, she took three apple slices and a strawberry. When she bit in, juice gushed. She accepted the napkin Prince Adrian handed her, trying to ignore his smile.
He had a nice smile.
When that smile widened to a grin, showing those sharp fangs again, she looked away. “Um, what is it you drink, Your Highness?”
“Breakfast.”
Rose swallowed cheese. “You don’t . . . feed from your human servants?”
“Usually not. It is easier to warm blood from the stocks in the cellars.”
“My previous masters all said it was more satisfying to drink from the source.”
She watched his hand slowly turning his cup as he replied, “Perhaps, but it is also intimate, and there are few I would share that with.”
Rose took a sip of the tea he nudged toward her—chamomile and honey with just a hint of lemon. It was so good she drank the rest in two gulps, trying not to wonder who the few were.
“You should try the bread.” As he spoke, the Prince reached out to cut a slice from the small loaf. Spreading butter, he continued, “It is one of my mother’s favorites, sweet white bread with cinnamon.” He held it out and she stared.
He was serving her. Did he even realize?
Lifting her gaze, she met his. “I’ve never had butter.”
Being careful not to touch his skin, she took the bread and stared at the flecks of spice before biting in. The flavor on her tongue was sweet, the texture of the crumb delicate. She tried to savor it, but it dissolved quickly in her mouth.
“Do you like it?”
Rose nodded, eating the rest, and brushed the crumbs from her mouth with her fingers. She drank a glass of water, and her belly almost protested. It had been so long since she’d experienced satiation. It made her want to cry.
“Tell me why you were being whipped the day I took you.”
Took , Rose thought, how apt. It was a needed reminder of the true nature of things. No matter how much he muddied things, no matter how conflicted her feelings, in the eyes of the law, he owned her.
It shouldn’t hurt her heart so much. Spending all her life this way, she should be used to it. Yet, somehow, her status never got easier. Her fight had been less as of late, but she still craved freedom. She always would.
Averting her eyes, she set her hands in her lap. After all the Prince had done for her, she supposed he deserved some truth.
“My master tried to take me by force. I defended myself.”
Prince Adrian cleared his throat. “I am sorry you had to endure that.”
She looked up, surprised at the sentiment, and then lifted a shoulder. “It happens to slaves every day, Your Grace.”
A tense silence descended, one where she looked anywhere but at him. Eventually, she said, “Thank you, Your Highness, for not treating me like everyone else, for protecting me and allowing me to eat, and for the shoes and cloak. I have never had a kind master.” His jaw ticked at that, but she continued, “I do appreciate the good things you’ve done for me, even if I don’t show it sometimes.”
“I pay for it.” She flinched at the words, and his next were gentler. “But for Larkin, I would do more.”
Rose’s stomach churned and she felt bitter at the confirmation that nothing he’d done was for her . Of course not.
“Come,” he ordered, standing. “We have plans.”